


the closest thing to perfection

by LadyMerlin



Series: RoyEd Week 2020 [6]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Everyone Ships RoyEd, Friendship, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Outsider, Pre-Relationship, Royed Week 2020: Day 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: “You make me feel brave when things are scary. I look at you and I think, it won’t be so bad if you’re by my side. You’re the best part of my day, from the moment I wake up until the moment I close my eyes to sleep. Do I have to go on or have you heard enough?”
Relationships: Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Series: RoyEd Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016677
Comments: 14
Kudos: 161
Collections: Roy/Ed Week 2020





	the closest thing to perfection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for RoyEd Week 2020: Day 7 - What a Surprise
> 
> (aka the three times no one was surprised by Roy & Ed, and the one time it took them by surprise)
> 
> The title to this fic comes from a song called 'Tomorrow' by Shakey Graves, and I adore this song so much <3

( **One** )

“Sickening,” Havoc announces, out of the blue, interrupting the flow of an otherwise ordinary day at the office. 

Breda looks up from his desk, where he’d been pretending to fill in reports. “What is?” 

Havoc turns to look at him, appearing surprised by the question. “Sorry?” 

Breda repeats himself; he’s been working with Havoc for years. He knows the man sometimes gets lost in his own head, and it takes him a little while to come back to himself. “What’s sickening?” 

“Oh,” Havoc grins. “Boss and the Chief. It’s nice that they’ve finally stopped trying to hide it.” 

“Hide what? The fact that they’re banging? Have they stopped hiding it?” Breda is always up for a little gossip to spice up the day. Besides, he’s got a vested interest in this; the secretaries have been running a pool for _years_ now, on when Mustang would finally snap, and whether he’d take Ed up on his bold and repeated offers or just strangle him in a totally non-sexual way. 

“Well, yes, that, but also the fact that they’re disgustingly in love with each other. I mean, just look at that.” Havoc tilts his head towards Mustang’s open door, through which they can see Mustang at his desk. 

Ed is perched on the edge of the desk closer to Mustang, looking down at him, while Mustang is leaning back in his chair, looking up. It’d be much more incriminating if they’d been making out or something, but this is bad enough. They’re just making cow eyes at each other, not even saying anything, and there’s a small smile playing on the corner of Mustang’s lips, utterly besotted. If they could see Ed’s face, they’d probably see a similar expression. 

Their hands are inches apart, and if Havoc leans out of the way, Breda can see Ed’s pinky brushing against the back of Mustang’s hand. Havoc’s right. It’s sickening. 

“I think it’s nice,” Fuery pipes in, and Havoc and Breda can’t help but exchange a fond look. Fuery is incredibly competent and brave and a truly valuable member of the team, but at times like this they can’t help but think of him as their adorable younger brother, who’s a bit too nice for his own good. It’s alright; only they’re allowed to pick on him. 

“I mean, I’m sure it looks nice from here, but what'd you want to bet that they’re super _nasty_ in bed?” Havoc asks Fuery, adopting a sincere expression. 

“Yeah,” Breda chips in, looking solemn. “I know Ed pretends to be really tough, but Mustang is probably into some really freaky stuff. I’d personally be worried about Ed. Who knows if he’s comfortable with all of Mustang’s shit?” In truth, Breda has no doubt that Ed would cheerfully level the neighbourhood if Mustang tried anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but it’s fun watching Fuery’s brow furrow in concern. 

Havoc on the other hand looks a little skeptical, as if he’s not sure even Fuery would buy the idea of Ed _‘pretending’_ to be tough. Forget steel, Ed is harder than fucking diamonds. 

Fuery doesn’t react, and Havoc has never known when to give up, so he presses on. “Besides, Ed is young and popular and objectively good looking. Who the fuck knows why he’d be hanging out with someone like Mustang? Maybe Mustang is blackmailing him or something.” This is blatantly untrue; everyone in the office knows exactly why Mustang is as popular as he claims to be, because he actually _is_ that charming and handsome and all that. 

“But Ed isn’t ashamed of anything?” Fuery points out, waving his pencil in the air. “What could the Boss possibly be blackmailing him with?” 

“If we’re so concerned, perhaps we’d all like to step into his office and ask them?” Hawkeye’s cool voice interrupts the gossip session, making each of them freeze like prey animals who’d just noticed the presence of a predator. “I’m sure the Colonel would be interested in hearing the speculation on his motives and personal relationships, especially when it involves spurious allegations against his character. Yes?” 

Havoc and Breda shake their heads furiously, while Fuery ducks his head in embarrassment, like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “No thank you,” he murmurs. 

Hawkeye nods. “I thought so. In that case, maybe we can all get back to work?” 

They immediately turn to their respective desks and continue doing their own work. Riza smiles to herself when she’s sure no one can see, and quietly closes the door to Mustang’s office. The two of them deserve whatever happiness they can get. 

( **Two** )

Al sighs and turns to face Winry, who’s lying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m a little hurt that he didn’t tell me about him and Mustang.” Winry hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything. 

Ed and Mustang - “call me Roy, please” - are visiting Al and Winry and Granny Pinako in Resembool. Or, well. Ed is visiting. Roy is just tagging along. 

Al isn’t sure whether Colonels have annual leave in Amestris, or if they do, whether they frequently use it to visit their subordinates’ families. The only way this makes sense is if there’s something else between Ed and Roy now, than just a purely professional relationship. Though Al still doesn’t think Ed would know _professional_ if it walked up to him and bit him in the ass. 

The bed in the next room groans and the sound vibrates through the thin walls, and Al tries very hard not to think about Ed and Roy in bed together. The image refuses to be eradicated, like a bad smell.

“And how would it even work? They’re the most stubborn people on the planet. How could they possibly have eased up enough to actually _be_ with each other?” Al demands in a whisper-shout. 

“Are you actually upset about this? About them being together?” Winry asks, after a moment. It’s a serious question, so Al does her the courtesy of thinking about it. 

He’s not. Not really. He shakes his head. “If they’re happy, I’m happy. But I just don’t get it, Win. How? And why didn’t he tell me?” 

“I mean, Al, it’s not like they were trying to even hide it at dinner. They were all over each other.” 

She’s right. They had been all over each other. It had been revolting. Al and Winry certainly never acted like that. “Mustang looked like he wanted to eat Ed alive,” Al grumbles darkly. 

Winry snorts. “Something tells me Ed wouldn’t exactly object to that.”

Al moans and turns his face into the pillow to muffle the sound, and also to suffocate himself, if he’s lucky. “Aw, poor baby,” Winry mocks, “having to think about his big brother being an adult and doing adult things.” She turns a little to stroke the back of his head, and Al whines a little more so that she’ll keep doing it. 

A burst of laughter interrupts them just as Al is about to doze off, booming through the walls. Al recognizes Ed’s happy laugh, and underlying it is what must be Roy’s laugh, though Al doesn’t think he’s ever heard Roy laugh in a non-sarcastic way before. They sound genuinely happy. Al wonders what the joke was. 

“The worst part of this is that I don’t even think they’re having sex, right now,” Winry muses. Al makes a pained sound in the back of his throat at the thought of his big brother having sex with anyone, let alone with his former boss. He still can’t get over the fact that Ed managed to get into an actual relationship with the man whom he once threatened to stab to death with a spoon for ‘ _breathing too loud’_. 

Al’s happy for them. He really is. He knows Ed always thought he was too weird to find love. Al had never been able to convince him otherwise. It’s really good to know that Mustang managed to get through to him, even though Al’s a little worried about the age difference. 

“I still don’t get why they didn’t tell me, Win. Did they think I wouldn’t approve?” 

Winry keeps stroking his hair as she thinks, and Al gives in to the urge to curl up around her like an oversized cat. “Haven’t you ever had anything you wanted to keep to yourself for a bit? Even from Ed? Something good and precious, like a helium balloon in your chest?”

Al admits that he has. Just because he and Ed are brothers doesn’t mean they know all of each other’s secrets. And it shouldn’t be that way, anyway. They’re two different people. Al certainly doesn’t share every single thought with Ed, and he shouldn’t expect the same from Ed. Maybe they’re building up the courage to tell him. Ed wouldn’t hide something so important forever. 

“Maybe it’s like that. Maybe they’re still getting used to the relationship, and they just want to keep it between themselves for a while. You shouldn’t be offended. Just be happy it’s Mustang. It could’ve been worse. Imagine if he’d taken up with Ling.”

Al almost sits up in shock at the thought. “Oh god,” he whispers. 

“Exactly.” 

“Oh thank god.” 

“Yup. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, Al. You know what Ed is like.” 

Al sighs. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I’m just really glad it’s not Ling.” 

( **Three** )

Elicia’s birthday party is probably the most well-secured party any six year old has ever had in the history of Amestris, and that’s saying something. 

Gracia’s garden is lined with armed soldiers, and mercifully Elicia’s sweet nature doesn’t object to their presence, beyond asking why they haven’t been offered any cake. By the end of it, many of them would have cheerfully given their lives for the little pigtailed girl who offered each of them a bite of chocolate ice-cream cake from her own plate, which is probably exactly what Roy had intended. Gracia has known him long enough to know that his mind tends towards convolution, but his schemes are usually successful despite being convoluted, so she doesn’t object.

Edward Elric is more of a mystery, even though she’s known him for more than ten years now. His brother is a little easier to read, but Gracia thinks that’s because Alphonse wants it that way. Maes always spoke well of Ed - of both Elric brothers, in fact - but he’d warned her that Ed didn’t have any particular limits on what he’d do if something happened to his loved ones, and that it’d be best to get out of his way especially if something happened to Al.

In some odd way, she thought it made him more like Roy than either one of them would have liked. That’s why she’s surprised it took them so long to finally come together.

She’s not one for gossip, but it’s surely not gossip if the only thing Gracia is doing is making knowing eye-contact with Riza and some others who know the couple well. Edward and Roy are oblivious to the byplay, sitting side by side in a corner of the garden, smiling and whispering at each other under their breaths.

Maes would have been delighted. 

She leaves them alone, and persuades others to leave them alone too, because she remembers how annoying it had been when people kept interrupting her dates with Maes in the beginning. 

Elicia, being her father’s daughter, notices all of this, and especially notices how close Roy and Ed are sitting, their arms pressed together from shoulder to elbow, with Ed inching his knee ever closer to Roy’s with every emphatic statement. Gracia almost wishes they’d just come out and admit that they’re together; it wouldn’t be the easiest announcement to make, because of their chequered history, but there isn’t a single person in their group who would be the least bit surprised. Like she said; it’s been a long time coming. 

Unfortunately, Elicia has also inherited her father’s nosy irreverence towards secrets, along with his good-nature and his instinctive kindness. She doesn’t understand why they might be keeping their relationship to themselves. 

“Mama says people who love each other kiss sometimes. Do you and Uncle Roy kiss sometimes?” Elicia demands at her usual volume, which means everyone within a ten meter radius can hear her. “Kissing is gross,” she announces, “except when Mama kisses me.” People on the street outside the garden can probably hear her. 

Ed and Roy move apart so quickly that Gracia wouldn’t have believed it, if she hadn’t been watching. Even though they’d clearly only been talking, both of them blush, though Roy’s blush is more obvious in his pale cheeks. Ed just looks like he wants to dig a hole through the nearest wall to escape the attention, and Gracia feels really bad about it. Elicia still has some way to go before she can meddle as effectively as her father did, if ever. 

She puts her plate down and hurries over to Elicia. She’s usually very well behaved, but she’s only six. She has her moments. Gracia catches her hand and pulls her away from the two of them, gently. “Sweetheart, what have we learned about asking questions?” 

“We only ask questions quietly,” Elicia intones obediently. It’s a lesson Gracia had come up with after Maes - well. After Maes. She’d realised that it would be impossible to stop Elicia’s questions, but at least she could minimise damage if Elicia didn’t shout her questions for the whole world to hear. 

She turns back to Roy and Ed, who are still standing a foot apart, hands behind their backs like there’s seconds from jumping to attention. Gosh, she feels terrible for ruining the easy mood between them. “I’m sorry Roy, Ed. She didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it.” 

“Yeah,” Elicia adds, even though it’s clear she’s not sure what she’s apologising for, “‘m sorry!” 

Both Roy and Ed assure her that it’s alright and that they’re not mad - and Gracia had honestly expected nothing less - but remain carefully apart from each other until Roy cites work and leaves before nine. Ed mopes around the party with his book until Elicia crawls into his lap and falls asleep. Gracia is careful to take a picture of the scene without alerting either of them. 

Riza meets her eye over the crowd of hyperactive children and Gracia nods. She’ll send a copy of the picture to Roy, too. Maybe then he’ll see that she - and the rest of their friends - would be nothing less than thrilled for his happiness with Ed. 

( **Plus One** )

Ed cries when he receives the invitation from Al. He’d known it was coming, of course; Al had told him _months_ before he even proposed to Winry, and had kept him updated on every step of the way, but holding the invitation in his hand makes it real in a way nothing else had. 

His baby brother is getting married to one of their best friends; a girl he would call his sister if people didn’t think that made it weird. 

Ed’s so fucking happy that there’s really no other possible reaction but to cry. He even cries a little bit in the office when he actually opens the envelope, but thankfully the team knows how weird he is about Al, so they don’t mock him too much. Also because they know he’ll cheerfully kick their asses if they press too hard, and Mustang has taught them that discretion is sometimes the best part of valour. 

Almost everyone receives their invitations, Riza and Gracia and Falman-Havoc-Fuery. Everyone's invitations allow a plus one, except Gracia, whose invitation allows a plus two (in case she wants to bring a date other than Elicia). Everyone receives their invitations except Roy. 

He puts on a good show of being unaffected, because Roy is the ringmaster (and occasionally the clown) of good shows, but Ed knows him well enough to tell when he’s feeling down. He refuses to admit it until one evening, when Ed follows him home (secretly) and corners him in his own kitchen, brandishing a big stick. 

After some (manly) shrieking and the (accidental) breakage of Roy’s dishware, and Ed’s (flimsy) explanation that he’d needed the big stick to get over Roy’s garden wall, and wasn’t intending to hurt him with it, they sit down to talk over tea. 

“I still don’t understand why you needed the stick, Ed, I swear to god I thought you were going to kill me or something.” 

Ed scoffs. “Why the fuck would I kill you? I already told you, I needed it to pole-jump over the back wall. Or at least, I thought I did. Turns out it’s easier to climb up ivy than I’d expected - you should probably get security to assess that weakness.” He pauses. “Also, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t need a stick to do it, have some faith.” 

Roy ignores the last part, but is still baffled. “Ed, you have a key to my house. You don’t need to break in?” 

Ed flushes, but ignores it, barreling on. “I know, but that’s not the point. The point is, I needed to talk to you.” 

Roy stills. “That sounds ominous. Are we breaking up?” he asks weakly, trying for a joke. 

Ed chokes on his own tongue and a few more minutes pass as he splutters and Roy thumps his back, accustomed to the show of Ed’s gracelessness. “You’re such an idiot,” Ed rasps, after Roy pours him a glass of cold water. “Are you done making un-funny jokes?” 

Roy pouts. “I’m _hilarious_ ,” he insists, before relenting. “Yes, I’m done. Why did you break into my house this fine evening, Edward?” 

Ed rolls his eyes. “You’re off, these days. Something’s up but I can’t tell what. You’re going to tell me why you’ve been all mopey and shit.” 

Roy blinks. “I’m not mopey,” he denies, knee-jerk. “I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Ed snarls. “Don’t talk to me like I’m _stupid_ , stupid. You’re one of my best friends. I think I’d be able to tell when you’re being mopey. Tell me what the fuck is wrong, so we can fix it and get on with our lives.” 

Roy studies him mutinously, like considering his chances if he keeps insisting that nothing is wrong. Ed bares his teeth in a clear indication of how well that’d go for Roy, if he tried it. Roy sighs in defeat and slumps back on the couch. “It’s nothing, really. Maybe it got lost in the post or something, I know this stuff happens. I just haven’t received my invitation to Al’s wedding, that’s all.” 

Ed blinks, stunned. “That’s all? That’s what you’ve been worried about? Oh, for fucks sake Roy!” He trips off the couch, half entangled in his own coat, before he tears it off in frustration and throws it into the hallway. He’s too annoyed at the damn thing to notice the look on Roy’s face at the sight of his bare arms. He continues ranting as he stomps towards Roy’s telephone. “He would never turn you away! You could just turn up, like that - no one’s going to ask the Fuhrer of Amestris for an invitation at the front door, anyway! You know Al, Roy, what the hell?” 

“Yes, I do know Al,” Roy admits, “which is why I don’t know, I thought maybe it meant he didn’t want me there? You’re right, no one would turn me away at the door, I know that, but what if he really doesn’t want me - I hardly want to ruin your brother’s wedding, Ed.” 

“That,” Ed announces, dialing Resembool’s area code by heart, “is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Yes, operator, please put me through to Alphonse Elric. It’s his brother, Ed.”

While the phone is ringing, Ed carries the receiver over to the coffee table, and puts the headset on the table, face-up so that Roy can hear when the line connects, and Al’s tinny voice comes through the speakerphone. “Brother?” 

“Hey Al, it’s me. Hope you’re doing okay.” Ed doesn’t wait for Al to respond because if Ed ever spared time for pleasantries, they’d start checking for imposters or homunculi. “Roy said he hasn’t received his invitation to the wedding yet - wanted to check if you’d sent it out already?” 

“ _Heh_?” Al asks, sounding surprised, “why would he need his own invitation?” 

Roy winces, and Ed blinks at the receiver in shock. “What? What do you mean, Al? I thought you’d want him there at the wedding? Did something happen?” 

“I’m so confused brother, of _course_ I want him there? He’s one of our closest friends - of course we both want him there! Here, I mean! But I didn’t think he’d need his own invite because I thought he’d be your plus-one! I mean, I specifically spoke to Winry and we thought - well. I mean, we all know about the two of you and we wanted to let you know that we’d be very happy if you attended together, because you’re my brother and I love you, and we want you to be happy, and we want Roy to be happy too--”

Ed cuts Al off before he can ramble further into incomprehension. “You’re not making any sense, Al. Of course we’re coming together - everyone from Amestris will be travelling together, the security’s going to be a fucking _nightmare_ , but why would everyone else get a separate invitation except Roy? I think he’s a little hurt, Al.” 

Roy’s so surprised by the statement that it distracts him from his own embarrassment. He’d honestly expected Ed to tell Al that Roy is also in the room, but it doesn’t look like Ed plans on telling his brother about it. Roy thought Ed told Al everything. 

Al gasps and the line crackles. “He _is_?” Al sounds distraught, and Roy begins to feel a little bad. He’s a grown man. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about something as minor as wedding invitations. Al is entitled to invite who-ever he likes to his own wedding. “Brother, the only reason I didn’t send a separate invitation is because I thought the two of you are dating! You don’t send couples separate invitations! Gracia said! Even Riza said it wouldn’t be proper to send you separate invitations! We checked!” Al sounds genuinely distressed, and it contrasts sharply with Ed’s own terse response. 

“We’re not dating, Al,” he grits out. 

“But that doesn’t make any _sense_ ,” Al wails, and the shitty connection crackles and pops in protest. “You’re always together, you’re so close all the time! Always whispering and joking together and _holding hands,_ Ed, you-- I can’t-- And that time you came for dinner, the two of you were flirting over the table, it was _so gross_ but _so obvious_ , I don’t understand! He looks at you like you’re the most important person in the universe, and you’ve told me! I remember you told me yourself, that you really _like--_ ”

Ed cuts his brother off, just before he says something Roy thinks he really wants to hear. “Sorry Al, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“But _Broth_ \--” 

Ed hangs up the phone before Al can finish his sentence and he’ll pay for it later, but there are more important things to deal with now. Roy has buried his face in his hands, and Ed sort of wishes the ground would split open and swallow him whole, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this. 

“So, uh,” he starts, but that’s as far as he gets before losing steam. 

“Yes,” Roy agrees, though it’s not clear what he’s agreeing to. “Hm.” Maybe he’s not sure either. 

“I’m sorry my brother made such an embarrassing assumption,” Ed offers, because god, it must be humiliating for people to think that someone like Roy would actually date someone like Ed. “I don’t really know what to say.” 

Roy drags his hands down his face and then laces his fingers together in his lap, like he’s trying to keep them from shaking. His expression - finally uncovered - goes through a series of rapid changes, from fear to dread and then to the calm still before a storm; Roy’s game face. Ed has only seen this expression when stuff is about to go down, when Roy is facing his fears. He can’t tell what exactly Roy is afraid of, now, with him. 

“No, sorry, I guess I should be the one apologising. You heard what your brother said. He’s not exactly wrong about the way I look at you, Ed.” 

Ed blinks. Roy doesn’t sound angry, or upset. He just sounds resigned and a little afraid. “I don’t understand.” 

“I suppose it’s been fairly obvious for everyone else to see, except you. He’s not wrong; I do look at you like you’re the most important person in the world.” He takes a deep shuddering breath, as if mustering courage for the words to come. Ed is hooked, speechless. “Because you are, to me. I don’t really know when it happened, but somehow things changed and now I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without seeing you every day, at least.” 

“ _What_.” Ed asks, flatly, because he’s still in shock. “Sorry, I don’t understand, Roy. Are you saying you - that you’re actually attracted to me?” he asks, stunned. 

Roy shakes his head. “I’m not attracted to you. I’m in love with you Ed,” he says on a sigh, the words too soft to match the impact they have on Ed, like a punch to his solar plexus. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Ed asks, numb.

“Why do I love you?” Roy asks, sounding a little surprised, a little bemused, and utterly resigned, like he’s just waiting for Ed to react, and he knows it’s going to be bad. “I couldn’t list the reasons if you gave me twenty-four hours, Ed. I just do. You’re gorgeous. You're funny. We have a shared history and we understand each other. You’re not intimidated by me and I’m confident that you’d cheerfully kill me if I ever tried to manipulate you.” Roy sighs again, despondent. 

“You make me feel brave when things are scary. I look at you and I think, it won’t be so bad if you’re by my side. You’re the best part of my day, from the moment I wake up until the moment I close my eyes to sleep. Do I have to go on or have you heard enough?”

Ed doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry or shout, or all of the above at the same time. “Why?” He asks again, instead. “Why are you sorry?” The unexpected question knocks Roy out of his daze. “You’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. Even when we were kids, all of us, Al and I caused you a lot more trouble than we ever solved problems, but you never turned us away when we needed help, even though you would have been within your rights. You protected us, you got messed up in our disasters, and you never blamed us for your misfortunes. And when I became an adult, and Al went back to Resembool, you became my _friend._ ”

The last word comes out unbearably tender, and Ed pauses for a breath, shuddering. 

Those first few months alone in Central had been horrible. He’d become accustomed to having company all the time, and even being alone in his own bedroom had become unbearable. He’d spent more time with Roy in those few months than he’d spent in the past eight years combined. And Roy had never once questioned it, or turned him away, even though Ed is sure his eighteen year old self must have been terribly inconvenient, and annoying to boot. 

“You think you’re the only one who depends on me - that’s stupid, Roy. You’re so _stupid._ You’re so fucking important to me, how do you not know? Al was going to say before I cut him off - I’ve told him a hundred times about liking you. About how much I like you. About how I didn’t think you’d ever like me back.”

“That’s inconceivable,” Roy whispers, which is the first thing he’s said since Ed started sharing his own part in things. “I don’t know how to not love you, Ed. It’s an essential part of me, now. I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”

Ed laughs and knows it sounds a little wet, knows that his eyes are gleaming with unshed tears, knows that things are going to get very ugly, very quickly. 

“I’ve been dreading the day you fell in love with some beautiful woman and I had to pretend to be happy at your wedding. Roy, I don’t know if this is really happening.” Admitting it isn’t easy, but it would be harder still if Ed opened his eyes in the morning and found that this had been some sort of desperation-fuelled fever dream. 

Roy shakes his head and laces their fingers together, a gentle touch for how awkward it is, all the way across the table. It’s too little, and they’re too far apart. Ed squeezes Roy’s hand and releases it, but before Roy’s face can fall, he moves around the table and throws himself into Roy’s lap. 

The flimsy kitchen chair is hardly strong enough to bear their weight, but it creaks and holds as Ed wraps his arms around Roy’s chest, and presses his face into Roy’s shoulder. Roy doesn’t hesitate to hug back, inhaling the scent of Ed’s hair and his skin, scarcely able to believe the weight of Ed’s body on top of him, or the heat he radiates. All of his senses are overwhelmed and he never wants it to stop. 

“You’re right,” he whispers, feeling Ed’s fists clench even tighter against the small of his back. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Ed snorts, and it shouldn’t be as endearing as it is, but Roy is clearly a hopeless case. “Well, everyone else seems to be shocked that it hasn’t been happening for longer.”

Even Roy can’t stop himself from laughing at that, grinning into the side of Ed’s head and allowing himself to finally - finally - touch Ed’s hair, sinking his fingers into it and stroking Ed’s scalp. Ed sighs like a perfectly contented cat, seconds away from actually purring. 

“You’re my best friend,” Roy whispers, which is maybe sad for a man in his early forties, but true all the same. Ed is his best friend, and it’s not like Roy has so many precious people in his life that he can afford to be careless with them. Part of the reason he and Riza hadn’t even tried anything is because she’d been too important to him, the closest of all his sisters. He hadn’t wanted to risk losing her. “You’re more important to me than I can even say.” 

Ed sighs and presses his lips against the side of Roy’s head, mirroring the gesture and refusing to move back. “You too,” he agrees. “But I can’t imagine a world in which I’d be happy without you. Without this.” 

Roy can’t deny it, so he doesn’t even bother trying. There’s nothing else he can do, except hope that it’s enough for Ed to want to take a chance. He breathes slow and deep, taking in as much of Ed as he possibly can, while waiting for him to decide. 

“I guess there’s only one thing left for me to ask,” Ed says, eventually. Roy just hums, waiting. “Will you be my date to Al’s wedding?” 

Roy grins and draws back, just enough to smack a kiss against Ed’s forehead. His eyes go liquid hot for a second before Ed sputters and feigns disgust. Roy doesn’t buy it, though. “Sweetheart,” he replies, instead of addressing Ed’s reaction. “I’ll be your date for anything you like, for the rest of your life, if you like.” 

It’s probably overblown for people who haven’t even agreed to start a relationship, but Roy knows this is it - Ed is it, for him. If this doesn’t work, he’s done trying. There’s no point in being coy about it, anymore. 

Ed snorts but doesn’t mock Roy, and doesn’t look offended or upset either. “Just my date?” He teases, “I think one day you’d be more than my date, if things go well.” 

“More?” Roy whispers, hardly daring to believe that Ed is teasing him with this, that they might even be on the same page. “You mean, your boyfriend?”

Ed shakes his head and his hair falls into his face. Roy gently tucks it behind his ears before Ed can resort to blowing it away, which never really works for him. “More than that,” Ed’s face is pink and flushing darker still. “Maybe even—”

Of course, that’s when the dining table chair finally decides to give way, and Roy lands hard on his back with Ed on top of him. Ed scrambles off as Roy wheezes, torn between a moan and a laugh, because of course this would happen to him. _Of course_. 

Ed helps him off the ground in seconds and pats him down efficiently, checking for injuries. He ducks his head when he realises that Roy is fine, and that he’s seen through Ed’s concern. “I’m fine, sweetheart.” 

Ed shakes his head but his lips twist in a wry smile. “In sickness and in health, yeah?” Ed asks, and Roy takes a full moment to process what he’d just said. 

When he gets it, it hits him like an anvil and he beams at Ed, because of course. “In sickness and in health, love,” he repeats. Of course. For better or for worse.

**Author's Note:**

> And with this I think I've hit my target of 150k words this year \o/ *throws confetti / blows kazoo*
> 
> It's been a fucking wild ride of a year. Thank you everyone for sharing your love this year - it's meant a lot, and it's kept me going when times were particularly tough. I love ya'll a whole lot, and wish everyone happy holidays and a wonderful new year <3
> 
> xxx  
> LM


End file.
